


A Chance for Fireworks

by mldrgrl



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Romance, Second Kiss, post-episode: Millennium
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-14 21:49:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9204755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mldrgrl/pseuds/mldrgrl
Summary: They would both like a second chance for that first kiss after the ball dropped in Millennium





	

“The world didn’t end,” he says with a smile.

 

“No, it didn’t,” she replies, her own smile fading slightly.  She drops her gaze from his, disappointment creeping in.  She’s disappointed in herself, and in him, but mostly in herself.  Disappointed that she’d just stood passively, arms crossed, and didn’t think to kiss him back.  Disappointed that after he smiled at her, he didn’t try to give her another chance.

 

“Happy new year, Scully.”

 

“Happy new year, Mulder.”

 

His arm lays heavy across her shoulders as they turn to leave.  When they push through the door to the hall, his hand strays to the middle of her back and a bit of a shiver moves up her spine.  It isn’t right that she feels more of a tingle from a light hand at her back than the touch of his lips.

 

On the drive home, while Mulder sleeps, she contemplates the failure of that first kiss.  Sure it was nice, but nice wasn’t the kind of thing two adults who’d spent more than a few years dancing around their feelings should aim for out of a first kiss.  And that smile of his.  Before he’d made a wisecrack, he’d smiled at her like he’d suddenly seen her for the first time.  She thought that after making that first move, he’d be right back for more.  Instead, there was nothing but a smile and a joke.

 

She sighs as she parks the car in front of his building.  When she finally looks at him after unbuckling her seatbelt, she feels the tension inside melt a little bit.  He’s cradling his bad arm in his sleep and the floppy piece of hair that never seems to want to stay put at the end of the day has fallen across his forehead.  He’s so damn cute sometimes it really irritates her.

 

“Mulder,” she whispers, taking two fingers and easing his unruly hair from his forehead without actually touching him.

 

He gives a little shrugging snort and his cheek twitches into a wince.  She moves her fingers through his soft hair and then settles her hand on his jaw while her thumb traces the shape of his ear.  She whispers his name again and this time he squints up at her.

 

“Come on,” she says.  “You’re home.”

 

“You were in my dream,” he murmurs, eyes closing again.

 

“Don’t fall asleep again.”

 

“It was a good dream.”

 

“Tell me about it on the way up.  Come on, Mulder.  Open your eyes.”

 

“I really wanted to finish it.”

 

“Just five more minutes and you’ll be in bed.”

 

“Okay.”

 

Thankfully, Mulder gets out of the car on his own.  He seems a little unsteady on his feet and she slips her arm around his waist to hold him steady.  She opens the front door of his building with her key and props him against the wall in the elevator.

 

“You said I could tell you my dream,” he says.

 

“Mmhm,” she answers, watching the numbers light up as they move up the floors.  One. 

 

“It was New Year’s Eve,” he says.  “1999.  We were being chased by zombies, but we came out of it okay.”

 

Two.

 

“That wasn’t a dream, Mulder”

 

“We were watching the ball drop.”

 

Three.

 

“We did watch the ball drop.”

 

“Three, two, one.  Happy new year.  Auld Lang Syne was playing.”

 

Four.

 

“I kissed you,” he says as the doors open on his floor.

 

She turns and tugs on the belt loop on his jeans to pull him out of the elevator.  He stares dreamily into her eyes as she walks backwards down his hall and he floats forwards.  He catches the pocket of her jacket and rubs the suede between his fingers.

 

“It was nice,” he says.

 

She glances over her shoulder to judge the distance between them and his door.  Only a few more feet.  She has her key in hand and she lets go of Mulder to open the door, but his good arm is there at her waist, and he pulls her back even while he still moves forward and they collide a little clumsily.  He grunts softly and she slaps her hand against his door to steady herself.  His hand is splayed low on her belly and the tingles she feels are much different from the ones she feels when he touched her back.  He slides his fingers inside her jacket to her hip and back to her stomach.

 

“It was nice,” he repeats, bending his neck so that his face is pressed to her hair.  “Just not what either of us wanted.”

 

She bows her head a little and his face slides down so that he’s breathing on the back of her neck.  She presses hard against the door as her knees wobble.  Her eyes are barely open, but she turns her head to try to catch a glimpse at him over her shoulder.  His fingers curl closed and take a grip on her shirt.

 

“Then what happened?” she asks.

 

“Nothing,” he whispers.  “I woke up too soon.”

 

She finally slides the key inside the lock and opens the door.  Somehow, she manages to sidestep out of his hold and push him through the doorway so that she’s behind him.  She flips the lock and as she turns back around, drops her keys to the floor as he cups the back of her head.  His lights are off, but there’s enough of a blue glow coming from the fish tank in the other room to silhouette him.  The whites of his eyes shimmer.

 

“I want a second chance,” he says.  “I don’t want to be nice.”

 

“I don’t want nice either,” she answers.  Her legs feel like Jello.  The swift and steady pounding of her heart has brought the blood racing up to her chest and cheeks and she feels flush with heat.  She winds one arm over his shoulder and wraps her hand at his nape while her other grips his hip.  She’s conscious of his damaged arm between them and it presses against her breast as he bends closer.

 

“Three, two, one,” he whispers, the small puffs of his words caressing her lips just before he covers her mouth with his.

 

He opens her mouth with his and slips his tongue past her lips.  She feels a whimper rise in the back of her throat and vibrate through her nose, but it’s stifled by the groan that pours out of his mouth and into hers.  Her shoulders bump against the door and he squeezes the back of her head slightly.  She straightens her spine and lifts up on her toes as she pulls his hip closer until his body is pinning her in place and then she rips her head away.

 

“Scully,” he murmurs, wet lips moving across her jaw and down her neck as she rolls her head and sucks in air to fill her greedy, burning lungs.

 

“Mulder,” she murmurs back, forcing his head back up to hers after she catches her breath so she could kiss him again.

 

She feels less frantic and more languid.  He is warm and solid against her.  She recognizes the feel of his body under her hands and the smell of his sweat and aftershave, but it’s a different experience now.  It’s familiar, but it’s intoxicating.  It makes her ache.  She forgets to breathe again and sees stars behind her eyes.

 

Her body goes limp against his and he tears his mouth from hers, rubbing the back of her head.  He leans his forehead against hers and the sound of their harsh breathing is loud in her ears.  She runs her thumb back and forth over the back of his neck.

 

“Better?” he asks.

 

A laugh bubbles up from her chest and bursts from her lips.  He kisses her face and moves his hips back so she’s not pressed so tightly against the door.  She wraps both arms around his neck, but feels him tense and wince and pulls away immediately.

 

“Oh, Mulder, you’re…”

 

“Don’t worry about it.”

 

She runs her hands lightly over his injured shoulder and arm.  This is as far as they will go tonight.  She needs time to think about this new direction and he needs time to heal his torn muscles.  She kisses the sleeve of his t-shirt where it covers his bicep and then lays her head on his chest.  He strokes her hair.

 

“I should go,” she says.  It’s a half-hearted protest.  She’s never felt so content to just be somewhere with someone, but that’s all she wants to do right now is just  _ be _ .

 

“Don’t go,” he whispers.

 

“We can’t….we shouldn’t...not…”   

 

“I know.  Not tonight.  Just stay.  Stay with me.”

 

“Okay.”

 

“Okay?”

 

“Yeah.”  She lifts her head and presses her lips to his in a kiss that mirrors the one he gave her in the hospital.  She pulls away and tips her head to look at him.  “The world still didn’t end,” she says.

 

“No.”  He smiles as he slides hand down to clasp her fingers.  “No, it didn’t.”

 

The End

  
  



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